


Like Mistletoe

by artifactstorageroom3_archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-17
Updated: 2009-05-17
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artifactstorageroom3_archivist/pseuds/artifactstorageroom3_archivist
Summary: Holiday fic. After another near miss at drowning, the boys realize how symbiotic they've become to each other.





	Like Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).

  
Author's notes: This fic was written for the Live Journal 2008 TS Secret Santa fic exchage I was given the prompt from tommyboybbi. This little piece has the distinction of being the first Sentinel story that I posted.  


* * *

It was one thing to have participated in your own death. To have felt the immense terror of being held under water and seeing your life disappear in pretty bubbles rushing towards the surface of a manmade fountain. It was terrifying, yes, but at the same time it really wasn’t so bad. After all, you knew the end. You knew the outcome was going to be your death, and as horrible as that was – you at least knew.

When Blair Sandburg had been brought back from that watery death, he hadn’t really spared it much thought. Oh, the circumstances of his revival he’d certainly contemplated more than his tight lipped roommate probably had wanted him to, but the actual death? Not so much. After all, he was a processing kind of guy, and while he was dying he had to process all of it really fast because he wasn’t truly certain that he was going to have the opportunity to do it after he was dead.

He couldn’t help but think now that that was a mistake. By failing to go back and reprocess his whole death, he’d also neglected to face what his friends saw when they found his body in the fountain. No, scratch that, he’d failed to realize what Jim faced when he’d seen Blair’s body in that fountain.

Oh, he’d had good excuses for not doing that. After all, the whole Temple of the Sentinels bit complete with strange sentinel mating urges and almost meeting his untimely end again (at the hands of the same person mind you)… Well, anybody would be exhausted after that.

In retrospect, he really wished that he’d dug out some lemon zest and mint and energized himself. Then he’d at least have a bit of preparation for seeing Jim disappear into his own watery grave.

God, it was horrible perching on the edge of the pier trying to see beneath the sheet of ice into the murky water. Having nothing to do but stand impotent while others dove beneath the surface to try to find your best friend’s body was one of the worst feelings that Blair could remember having. Of course, watching Jim crash through the ice and not come back up in the first place was ranking pretty high up there as well.

It had all happened so fast. If he had a dime for every time he’d heard a witness say that, he’d probably at least own a nice new notebook. Maybe even a pencil case.

Briskly, Blair shook his head. No, Jim deserved better than that. He didn’t deserve to have Blair’s mind wander off the fact that Jim Ellison had been down in that water a long time. He deserved happy, helping, positive thoughts. Numbly Blair lifted his wrist to stare uncomprehendingly at his watch. How long had they been down there anyway? It felt like eternity.

He closed his eyes briefly in an effort to find his calm center. Instead of peace though, he was confronted with the sight of Jim being sucker punched over the railing of the pier and into the unforgiving water below. His throat still felt raw from the scream that he’d let loose when that happened, and his knuckles were starting to swell from where he’d thrown his own punch into the suspect’s nose.

The sight of a head popping out of the hole in the ice interrupted the movie playing in Blair’s mind. It was the back-up that had actually shown up on time for once, one of them anyway. The one who had been running pell-mell down the pier not two steps behind Blair. The one who had dived off the wooden platform after Jim while her older, more experienced partner had grabbed a hold of Blair to keep him from doing the same thing, Officer Mattson Bair thought the rescuer’s name was.

Officer Mattson was probably going to get her ass reamed for not following proper rescue procedure for a drowning and potentially hypothermic victim. Diving in a graceful headfirst arc into unknown water was a stupid thing to do at anytime really. Blair was going to have to buy her flowers for doing it though.

Flower buying thoughts fled when she yanked and another head cleared the surface of the water. Blair got no more of a glimpse before the better equipped rescue personnel blocked his view of the scene. He tried to move, but found that Officer Mattson’s partner was right there containing him again.

“There ain’t nothing you can do now boy. You let the professionals handle it. You’ll only get in the way,” the slightly wheezy voice rasped in his ear.

The irritation that flared up at the comment energized Blair into movement. He spun quickly and strode down the pier to the shore where they were dragging Jim. For a few dreadful seconds, he thought that his best friend was lost to him. Jim’s pallor was horrible, and there was a nasty gash on his forehead that was still oozing blood. Oddly enough, it was that sight that reassured Blair that he didn’t need to be making any attempts to see if the whole merge thing would work when their positions were reversed. If Jim’s heart weren’t still beating, there would be no bright red blood coming out of his head wound.

Forcing himself to relax, Blair went to go speak to the EMTs about Jim’s special medical needs.

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

 

“Is this some sort of macho competition, or are you two just really deep into the S&M scene?”  
Blair jerked his eyes away from Jim’s still unconscious form to look at the doctor now standing the room.

“Jack,” he acknowledged once his eyes focused enough o make out the doctor’s rather ordinary visage.

“Do you know how many patients never know my first name? Most of them. Most of them, in fact, don’t ever remember my last name. But not you two, no you and Jim here are going to get invited to the hospital Christmas party if you keep this up,” he fussed as he took a quick look at Jim’s chart.

“Jim has a dangerous job, and I…”

“Blair, save it, okay? I’m not sure why the two of you attract the trouble that you do. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know either. At this point, I’ve resigned myself to just being happy that the two of you have each other. Do you know that I met Jim a couple of times before you started your – whatever it is you do with him? The man that came to the hospital back then? I would’ve laid dollars down on him not being able to have enough emotion to care about anybody the way he cares about you.”

Blair waved a dismissive hand in the doctor’s direction. “Jim’s good at hiding his emotions. He wouldn’t be a cop if he didn’t care.”

Jack shrugged and made some notes on the chart he was still holding. “People say that about doctors too. Unfortunately, some of us are here for the money or the prestige. Besides, I think that sitting by somebody’s bedside holding somebody’s hand and giving that person little love pecks goes beyond just general caring, don’t you?”

“Hey! Man, I am so not…”

Jack started laughing at Blair’s outburst. “I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about Jim. He was a complete basket case after you drowned. He was terrified when you went comatose for a little while. I thought the nurses were going to sedate him. Then when he started in with the hand holding and the kissing? I thought I was going to have to sedate the nurses. It was like their favorite television characters finally confessed their undying love to each other.”

“I, Jim and I,” Blair stuttered.

Jack tilted his head and looked at Blair,“I’m sorry Blair. That was rather unprofessional of me. I didn’t realize that you and Jim were still not, well, out. In any case, Jim seems to be reacting rather typically, for him anyway. While the cold temperature of the water was a bad shock to his system, it also had a smaller population of bacteria in it than a warmer temperature would have carried. Unfortunately, he also managed to inhale enough of it that it looks like he’s starting to get a minor infection, so I want you to make sure that he takes his antibiotics. Yes, I will tell him that myself, but I never know what the two of you are going to do. Don’t think I don’t know that you don’t always fill the prescriptions I give.”

Blair decided to go for the sheepish routine. After all, he wasn’t going to explain to the doctor that Jim couldn’t always handle those prescriptions. As for his own medicines, well holistic medicine was a choice, but he wasn’t going to get on the bad side of a doctor who patched him up on a regular basis.

“I’ll make sure he takes his pills,” Blair said. It might turn out to be an outright lie depending on how Jim’s senses reacted, but it seemed to be the right thing to say.

Jack nodded once. “I assume that he’s going to be his normal irascible self when he wakes up?”  
Blair shrugged a little and smiled.

Jack sighed. “Just tell me that he isn’t going to run off on a foolhardy cross-country expedition like you did.”

Blair winced and wondered who had squealed on him. He and Megan had lied rather convincingly to the hospital staff when they’d gone off after Jim and Simon - something about being able to recuperate better at home in his large, comfy bed if he recalled correctly. Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad plan. Jim, after all, actually had a big, comfy bed to sleep in.

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

 

The wheezing sound was irritating even the Blair’s ears. He couldn’t imagine how horrible it had to sound to Jim, especially as Jim’s lungs were the source of the sound.

“Hey look, tomato soup with ring noodles,” he announced cheerfully as he got to the top of the stairs.

Jim, to his credit, tried to look appreciative. “I’m not really hungry, Sandburg.”

“Come on, I know your throat hurts, but you’ve got to eat something. Tomatoes are full of anti-oxidants and the noodles are all soft and gooey and full of calories.”

“Only you would put noodles in tomato soup,” Jim pointed out.

“Homemade tomato soup,” Blair corrected, “all that salt and sugar in the canned stuff isn’t good for you.”

“I’m still not hungry.”

“Jim, if you don’t eat anything, your body isn’t going to have any to repair itself with.”  
“Sandburg, I’ve been sick before you know. My head hurts, my entire body aches, and I’ve hacked up enough mucus to, to…” Jim’s hands flailed uncharacteristically as another bout of coughing cut him off in mid-rant.

Blair responded by setting down the tray of soup and propping up his partner so he could breathe better. As soon as he noticed that his right hand was attempting to soothingly rub Jim’s back, he yanked the offending limb back into his own personal space.

“Maybe I should just, um, you know, make some tea then?”

Jim’s eyes narrowed in response, but he was still attempting to hack up one of his lungs, so Blair beat a hasty retreat down to the kitchen.

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

 

The frown on Jim’s face didn’t lessen as he listened to Sandburg’s jerky movements in the kitchen. The whole convalescence scenario wasn’t a new thing for either of them. Blair always dug out all sorts of therapies to try on him when he was under the weather. What he usually did not do was retreat like a scared, little jackrabbit. Sandburg normally would’ve rubbed Jim’s back until he finished his coughing spell, and then proceeded to nag his partner until Jim finally ate the soup he’d made.

Blair had been acting very strangely. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out that Blair was acting funny not because Jim was ill, but because of how he had come to be in that condition. Granted, Jim hadn’t been held down in a fountain at gunpoint, but the whole drowning thing had to have brought back some really bad memories. Some of those memories had to be of Jim’s actions, no wonder Blair didn’t want to be near him right now.

“How about some tea? I put a little honey in it. The good stuff from the organic grocer on fifth street. You know the brand that has the special clover fields?” Blair’s words interrupted Jim’s gloomy thoughts.

He sniffed delicately, and thanks to his sentinel scenting abilities, he could smell the tea through his runny nose.

“Smells like there’s clover in the tea too, Chief.”

“It’s a natural blend of herbs that will help your immune system.”

“You mean that it will taste like I’m eating dirt,” Jim corrected.

There was a hesitation in Blair’s demeanor where he normally would’ve started in about the health benefits of dirt tea. That bugged Jim greatly, so he quickly grabbed the cup out of Sandburg’s hands and gulped half of it down, ignoring the burning sensation it caused as it slid down his sore throat.

“Hey, tea is for sipping. Coffee is for gulping,” Blair protested when he saw the wince of pain cross his friend’s face.

“Mmmm, coffee. How come that can’t be good for you when you’re sick?”

“You’d hate it if it were,” Blair muttered as he began to mess needlessly with the pillows on the bed.

Okay, Blair was not making eye contact. This wasn’t a good sign. Jim really didn’t want to deal with this when he was sick. He really didn’t want to deal with it ever. On the other hand, he couldn’t very well do nothing. Maybe a positive action would be enough.

“Could I have some of that soup now?”

“Sure man. Hey maybe it cooled off enough now that it won’t hurt so bad,” Blair gushed clearly glad to have something constructive to do.

It was hard to eat when Blair was fidgeting with the bed covers.

“Jim, man, I know this isn’t the best time, but there’s something I’ve got ask you.”

The soup got stuck in Jim’s throat. Apparently appreciative eating wasn’t going to get him off of the hook. He should have expected this. Sandburg had to deal with things eventually. He always had to process, could never leave well enough alone. It drove Jim to distraction in both good and bad ways.

“Yeah?” he hoped that his response was friendly enough to keep Blair from being hurt and grumpy enough to end whatever train of thought was going through his friend’s head. He wasn’t so lucky on the second part.

“Yeah. See, I was talking to Dr Jack, and…”

“Dr Jack?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know. Dr Jack. The tall, Asian guy that works the afternoon shift at Cascade General?”

“Dr Smith?”  
“That’s the guy. Hey did you know that he took his wife’s last name as his own? He said that he didn’t’ agree with her having to change her name when they got married, said that she had to put up with enough from him because of his crazy schedule.”

“You wanted to talk about Dr Smith’s marital decisions?”

Blair shook his head. “No, no, sorry. I got off track there. Look, Jim, when I, you know when I, um, died, and you brought me back?”

Jim swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t going to like this conversation. He just knew it.

“Well, you know I went unconscious for a little while after I started breathing again.”  
Jim nodded again as he pushed the memory of that horrible day back down into the repressed corner of his brain.

“Dr Jack, he said that you were acting funny,” Blair winced and Jim knew that his partner was unhappy with the choice of his words.

“It wasn’t a real good day Sandburg,” Jim said hoping to put an end to this discussion quickly.

“Hey, tell me about it. Look, he said that you, ah, kept touching me- holding my hand and stuff.”

Jim nodded and felt his brain go gibbering off in a hundred directions at once. He now knew where this discussion was heading, and he found himself desperately praying for the spirit-guides-merging conversation that he’d been dreading just a few minutes earlier.

“Jim? You okay, you don’t look so good there.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped in response. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across his forehead. He’d pray for mercy, but he didn’t think he’d receive it. After all, he’d had a really long reprieve from the Alex debacle. Apparently it was time to pay the piper.

“Well, um, as I was saying…”

“Did you know that it wasn’t the blow to my head that knocked me unconscious? I think it was the water temperature,” Jim heard himself blurt out.

As far as a distraction went, it was a good one. He could practically see Blair’s little researcher eyes light up at the new information. Problem was that it was so obviously a distraction that there was no possible way for him to claim he didn’t know where Blair’s original conversation had been heading.

“Oh, hey, you know that makes sense. We’d just gotten out of the heated environment of the truck. And with all that adrenaline going, you probably didn’t really acclimatize to the ambient air temperature. Going into freezing water would be a shock on anybody’s system, but a sentinel’s body, that would be huge. Wow.”

Jim could see Blair’s mind begin to go through theories and ideas on the whole temperature of water. He also could see the instant that Blair realized that he’d been waylaid from his original conversation. It was something about the way that his frown turned. A thinking frown always brought about deeper furroughs in his brow. An unhappy frown tended to be lighter. Blair wasn’t a scowler by nature.

“Are you even going to answer me if I ask the question?” Blair softly asked as his eyes focused on something that was apparently fascinating on the wall.

Jim shifted around a bit but had to stop when he felt his lungs begin to gear up for another round of hacking.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Blair only snorted in response.

Jim tried to sigh, but that only caused his beleaguered lungs to start off their threatened coughing spell. When they were done, he found a wad of tissues being held in front of his face. Reluctantly, he grabbed the offered paper products and tried to be discrete with their usage.

“Jim, I’m sorry, but I need to know here. I think I deserve to know. I mean, I’m sitting up here with you helping you clean up your snot. Who else would do that for you? I need you to talk to me.”

And didn’t that sound just like Carolyn when their marriage started to fall apart. Of course, with Carolyn there really was not anything Jim could do. “I don’t think that I’m in love with you. I really only married you because I didn’t want to be alone,” had not been the response that would’ve saved their marriage. It was, however, the truth. One she eventually discovered despite his best attempts.

The hell of it was he actually loved Blair. He knew that Blair was more forgiving than Carolyn. He’d probably be very consoling towards poor, confused Jimmy’s feelings. Then he’d explain everything in his own, Sandburg way. He’d explain why Jim thought he felt this way. Why Jim really didn’t feel that way. Why Jim shouldn’t, and Blair couldn’t, and damn it all to hell, Jim didn’t want that. He liked that warm, fuzzy feeling that he got from seeing his best friend walk into a room. He didn’t want it to go away under a haze of logic and buddy talk.

“You were gone,” he whispered softly as his eyes lowered to stare at the weave on his comforter. Maybe reminding Blair of the terrible circumstances would convince him not to smash Jim’s feelings down into acceptable areas.

“I was back,” Blair corrected.

“I know.” Oh yeah, he knew. He remembered the whole gamut of roiling emotions and the euphoric feeling that anything was possible. That combined with the hysteria of Blair sliding back into unconsciousness had made him desperate to touch the smaller man. He’d had to know what that flesh felt like when it was warm with life. What it tasted like straight from the source instead of from some second hand object.

It had only been when he’d begun to feel the slight stirrings of pleasure from his acts that he’d stopped. Stopped? He’d practically bolted from the room. He remembered the feelings of revulsion welling up. Taking advantage of his best friend in the whole world was just about the lowest thing a guy could do. And hell, he thought he’d gotten rid of those types of urges back when he left home, and he knew that Daddy’s money wasn’t going to protect him anymore.

“You still with me here?” Blair’s voice reminded Jim that he had to return to the present.

“I’m here, Sandburg,” he acknowledged.

Blair blew a stream of air out between his lips. “I’d be better off having a conversation with the wall.”

Jim had heard that one from Carolyn too.

“Okay, let’s try the direct approach. Was the whole kissing thing a sentinel thing or was it a repressed, anal cop thing?”

Jim felt his eyes widen and snapped his gaze to look at Blair who was now staring at him.

“Aren’t you the one that is always telling me that I can’t separate my sentinel abilities from myself?”

“That isn’t an answer, and don’t try to put this back in my lap.”

“You’re the one who brought it up in the first place,” Jim ground out.

“Yeah, I brought it up. I started it! Are you happy? I started it, and I intend to finish it. Do you think that I enjoyed watching you almost die? Do you think that I think that you liked watching me dead? Do think that I think that you think that,” Blair stopped when Jim put a hand over his lips.

“Breathe Sandburg.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. In retaliation for the interruption, he bit at the hand covering his mouth.

To his chagrin, Jim felt a bolt of attraction surge through him at the act. Blair was always beautiful when he was passionate, and Jim was a sentinel. It wasn’t his fault his fingers were sensitive.

Blair must have noticed the change somehow because his eyes went from angry to shocked almost instantly. He bounced up off the perch that he’d made for himself on the bed and began to wander aimlessly about the bedroom.

“I’m so stupid. I would’ve sworn it was a sentinel thing,” he muttered.

Jim quickly focused his eyes back down on the comforter, his face flushed with embarrassment. He was mortified. He was terrified. He wanted to zone on something so that he didn’t have to deal with whatever was going to come out of Sandburg’s mouth, because it very obviously was not going to be something he wanted to hear.

Chastising himself for wanting to take the easy way out, Jim forced himself to try to do some damage control.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. It was only the one time. I don’t, I don’t go into your room at night or use my senses to look at you or anything like that.”

Blair stopped his pacing and looked back at Jim. “But you’ve thought about it,” he stated firmly.

“No!”

“Oh come on, man. Don’t lie. Of course you’ve thought about it. I know how your brain works. You didn’t just spout off the first idea that pops into your head.”

“Well I don’t like having this conversation either, but I’m here aren’t I?”

“You’re only here because you’re too sick to storm out, and you need me to help you get well enough to toss me out!”

“I don’t need you for anything. But I do, for some reason, want you here. That is what we’re fighting about isn’t it? My unnatural wants?”

“What?” Blair squeaked.

“You unconscious, me kissing – remember?”

“So you’re admitting that this is a Jim want thing?”

“I don’t recall denying that. I recall denying that I was being some sort of perverted stalker towards you in your own home.”

“I didn’t say that! I said that you’d thought about it. I’ve thought about tossing Simon’s cigars under the nearest bus, but that doesn’t mean I’d actually do it. God, Jim. Do you really believe that I’d think that you’re a pervert?”

Jim shook his head ‘no.’

“Okay, good then. So is this something you’ve repressed? These sorts of leanings?”

“You were unconscious! I wasn’t trying to get some from a man that had just drowned!”

Blair held up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “You’re right, you’re right. So this is a me kind of thing then.”

“I don’t know, what do you think Einstein?” Jim mumbled as his face began to renew its flushed, embarrassed state.

“Ah, Jim, man… Why do you keep these things bottled up? It isn’t good for you,” Blair’s voice was starting to take on the pitying tone that Jim had been dreading.

“Don’t, Sandburg. Just don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want your pity or your understanding. I don’t want to hear about why it’s okay. I don’t want to know about how bad repression is for me, or how much you support my leanings towards alternate lifestyles. Okay? The old queer guy that lives above you isn’t going to be doing anything unsavory towards you, and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave what’s left of my pride intact.”

With that, Jim turned on his side and presented Blair with an excellent view of his back.

Grimly, he fought back the need to wheeze and prayed that Blair would accept the not so subtle hint. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty when Blair’s footsteps went down the stairs. His illness didn’t affect his hearing, so he could clearly listen to Blair pause once he reached the bottom of those stairs. He heard the softly muttered curse and the hand that rubbed across Sandburg’s brow.

He also heard Blair stride over to grab his coat, wallet, and keys. He would have panicked, but Blair didn’t grab anything else. That just meant that Blair needed to go out for a bit. Good. That would give Jim time to get himself back under control and accept his friend’s well intentioned sympathy and forgiveness with something close to gratefulness.

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

 

Jim woke to the feeling of not being able to breathe. With a shove, he lurched himself into an upright position and spared a moment of thankfulness that he hadn’t been awake when he was under the water. Not being able to bring air into your lungs was one of the absolute worst feelings in the world. He wondered how Sandburg could even look at water without freaking.

A strange patch of warmth rested against his back when he finished his latest coughing bout.

“Lay back, the water bottle should help relax your muscles,” Blair’s voice commanded him.

Jim complied almost instantly. It did feel good, and he wasn’t in the mood to piss Sandburg off again. Speaking of which…

“You’re back,” he stated simply.

“I’ve been back for a couple hours now. You’ve just been asleep,” Blair responded distractedly as he fiddled around with a teapot and something else that Jim wasn’t sure he recognized.

“What’s that?” he said pointing at the gizmo.

“This is an herbal vaporizer. You put the herbs and water in here and here, and it releases the essential oils into the air. This,” Blair continued by pointing at the teapot, “is a tea made from licorice, ginger and a bunch of other herbs that you don’t want to know about. That,” Blair pointed this time at Jim, “is a new hot water bottle.”

All of which hadn’t been in the loft yesterday, Jim realized.

“You bought all this for me?”

“Don’t look so happy, I used your money to do it. I figure if I’m just a schmuck who keeps living with somebody he thinks is pervy old guy, I might as well get some benefits.”  
Obviously Blair wasn’t done being angry yet. It was time to attempt some floundering Ellison damage control.

“Sandburg, look, I’m sorry that I,” Jim stopped as Blair’s hand landed over his mouth in a parody of his earlier attempt to silence.

“Jim, it’s probably better for both of us if you don’t try talking right now. Okay?”

He nodded at Blair’s request, and the hand was removed.

“I’ve never been so angry or so scared you know that? I’ve had to do some soul searching over this, and I realize that part of my reaction is because I actually did die by drowning, but I don’t think that is all of it. It felt like an eternity that you were under that water. I know in reality that it wasn’t that long, but I thought I was going to lose you. What was I going to do? Even when you kicked me out, I still had a chance fix us. I felt horrible, but I still had that chance.”

“Sandburg,” Jim started uncomfortably.

“I’m not done yet. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I had this terrible, sinking feeling that my entire world was about to disappear just because I wouldn’t see you every morning Let me tell you something, that wasn’t the realization I wanted to have. I mean there are starving children in the world and in that moment of time all I could think were stupid thoughts like I’d never be able to watch a Jags game again because you wouldn’t be here to talk to about it. I’d never see you puttering around half naked in the kitchen in those ridiculous plaid boxers again, or how I’d never see you in that damn baseball cap again, or how I’d… Well you get the picture.”

“I’m sorry that you were frightened,” Jim supplied.

“Frightened? Jim, I was terrified, okay?”

“Anybody would get scared in that situation, Chief. The things that I’ve seen you weather, men with ten years on the force couldn’t handle.”

Blair frowned at him for a moment before enlightenment dawned upon his features. Jim was just about to congratulate himself on actually saying the right thing for once when out of Blair’s mouth came, “You’re an idiot.”

“What?”

“Did you listen to me at all there? I tell you that I’m just completely enmeshed with you and can’t live without you, and you somehow interpret this to mean that I was scared about the situation at the dock? Jim, I’m scared of the situation at home. Do you have any idea how frightening this is for me? I’m not the forever kind of guy, you know? At least, I didn’t think I was. Then the next thing I know it turns out I am, and I’ve just been lying to myself for ages. I mean, I should’ve bought a clue when I started putting both of our names on my address labels, but I’m obviously getting too good at prevarication.”

Jim didn’t know how to respond to that, but Blair had paused so he obviously expected a response.

“So where do we go from here?” Jim silently applauded himself on the question being sufficiently vague yet supportive.

Blair smiled at him like he was expecting that answer. Like a shot, he was down on the floor rummaging around in the detritus left from the bag and box that the new “herbal humidifier” had been in. he emerged victorious with two pens and another box.

Still smiling, Blair climbed back onto the bed with his prizes and settled himself right alongside Jim.

With a mock mournful look, he stared at the tips of his sock clad feet and where they clearly did not have a chance of reaching the same zip code as the feet that Jim had tucked under the covers.

“Well, at least you’re used to your partners being shorter. I mean, I’ve had a few taller lovers but the difference wasn’t this huge you know? I liked to put the limit at five ten, five eleven tops.”

Jim wasn’t exactly sure where all his blood went at that statement. He just knew it left his head for parts unknown because he was simultaneously confused, embarrassed and just a little bit aroused. Maybe Blair would have the answer.

“Sandburg, what’s going on here?”

“What’s going on is that you and I are going to send out Christmas cards. While I am the shorter member of this partnership, I refuse to be the little wife, so I am not forging your signature on the cards. I’m going to sign them, then you’re going to sign them, and then you’re going to create a neat little stack over there. Once we’re done with that, I’m going to write out the addresses on the envelopes and you’re going to stuff the envelopes and put my land of denial return address labels on them. Then we’re going to go to the post office buy some of those annoying Christmas stamps and mail the suckers out to our family and friends. Any questions?”

“Why are we sending out Christmas cards at all? I mean you don’t even really celebrate…”

“I can celebrate any holiday I want to, Jim Ellison. I spent years becoming an anthropologist. I’m an expert at being adaptable to culture. Being an American citizen, Christmas and all that goes with it is one of the most revered of our holidays. I’m embracing the cultural archetype and sending out Christmas cards with my boyfriend so that our families can rest assured that our relationship is stable enough and we’re financially secure enough to afford over priced, brightly colored pieces of high gauge paper that half of them will forget to recycle when they throw them out.”

“I don’t understand,” Jim lamented when his brain refused to wrap around the fact that they seemed to no longer be fighting, and he appeared to have somehow attained the title of “boyfriend.”

“Well, see it goes like this,” Blair said as he pulled the cards out of their box and used the back of said box as a writing surface, “I came to the conclusion that we’re in this highly symbiotic relationship. That little realization, I’ve got to tell you, almost made me have a panic attack. Then I realized that I somehow fell in love with you instead of just, you know, loving you, which really made the symbiosis better because that’s how people try to be in long term relationships. A good scientist will tell you that symbiosis can be a good thing for both parties. If it isn’t a good thing, then it’s a parasitical relationship right?”

Jim shook his head in bewilderment. Blair just sighed and pushed a freshly signed card, the other pen, and the top of the box at him. When Jim continued to stare at him, he made vague writing gestures, and Jim dutifully scribbled his name onto the card.

“Silver and gold?” he asked when the ink from his pen turned out to be a different color than what Blair’s name was scribbled in.

“Red and green is overdone. Where was I? Oh, yeah, see so we’re in this symbiotic relationship, which is great except that it means that other, more traditional symbiotic relationships are going to be difficult to create because we’re already in our own little world. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing except that you’re a traditional symbiosis kind of guy, and I’m a non-symbiotic kind of guy all together. Then I find out that you’re not really as traditional as I thought, and I realize that I’m a lot more traditional than I thought. So I freaked out a bit. I mean these were really big changes in the way that I viewed the world.”

Jim nodded. His congested head was buzzing. He was half following the conversation and half wishing that he’d paid more attention in biology class.

“I got out of the loft for a while, and where did I end up? At the local health store. Why was I there? Because you weren’t feeling well, and I wanted to help you. Then I realized that I have the opportunity to take care of you because you take care of me by giving me a place to call home and paying the heating bill and all that. So it hits me that we’re totally into mutualism here. I mean we’re not even into commensalism, but full out mutualism. If we’re really all mutually symbiotic, then why should I be fighting it?”

Blair stopped signing and looked over at Jim who looked thoroughly confused now,“You’re not following me are you?”

“I… are you saying that we’re like mistletoe or something?”

“No, no. See mistletoe is a parasitical plant. It hampers the growth of the tree it lives on. We’re more like goby fish and shrimp.”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s try something more direct. I’m in love with you, but I can’t jump your bones right now because the phlegm is a major turn off. So to commemorate our new relationship status, we’re sending out Christmas cards.”

“So this is all a substitute for sex?”

“Mom always said that men think with their dicks,” Blair mumbled.

“Weren’t we fighting this afternoon?” Jim asked, his head still refusing to kick into a higher gear.

“Yeah, well, I’m new to this permanent relationship thing. I’m going to have problems holding onto the anger and the lover’s spite for the requisite time periods. I mean I haven’t gotten to the point where I understand the need to stay angry with you. Give me some time for the honeymoon period to wear off.”

“So we’re together now?”

Blair obviously decided that he didn’t need to answer that stupid of a question because all he did was hand Jim another card to sign.

“I mean, we’re together now. No more women?” Jim asked hoping to clarify the situation.

“No, I thought you were the open relationship type,” Blair responded sarcastically.

“But…”

“No buts, Jim. At least, not right now, later though we might have to negotiate,” Blair said with a lascivious grin.

Jim responded with a grin of his own. “So this is all a substitute for sex,” he stated firmly this time.

Blair shook his head and gave Jim a peck on his forehead right below where the gash was bandaged up.

“I don’t want to know what kind of sex life you’ve led that card stock reminds you of intercourse.”

“You, me separate but in the same space,” Jim said as he pointed to the most recently signed card.

“Mmm, you do have a point,” Blair agreed.

“So when I get better, we’re going to do the real thing?”

“Yes, we’re going to do the real thing. Do you have any other questions, or are you going to finally quit slowing down my ritualistic ceremony here?”

Jim thought a moment. This was a rather big change that appeared to have happened in the space of a few hours, and he’d been asleep for at least half of those hours. He should, by nature, question and think about this. On the other hand, the change was for the good, and Sandburg seemed happy with it.

He took a shallow breath and spoke, “No more questions. And hand me the tea will you? I have a cough I need to get rid of.”

[](http://escargoat.livejournal.com/tag/the+sentinel)


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